As we always did whenthere was danger—like that year a blizzard had broken through the Sisters and dumped six feet of snow in Ghasta Vale—the entire clan gathered in the communal cave. Instantly, I found Jessamine kneeling at Dayn’s side, wiping his brow.
I strode straight to them as Bezaliel charged toward Tessa and hauled her, crying, into his arms. Lorelyn had her arms around Sorka who sat on a bench near Dayn, whispering words of comfort in her ear. Sorka held Hallizel in her cupped hands. Though it was dim, she still illuminated a pale blue light. Thank the gods, she had survived.
Jessamine stood when I came to her, her gaze sweeping over me to look for injury. She pressed a hand to my chest and closed her eyes, sighing in relief. Taking her hand in mine, I kissed her palm.
“How is Dayn?”
“The injury is bad. But he is strong. He’ll make it, Tessa says.”
His vest had been removed, revealing two deep claw marks over his heart and the reddened sutures that Tessa must’ve stitched. Even in her worry and grief for her daughter and mate, our healer had taken care of our own.
Dayn lay unconscious, which concerned me. We weren’t the fainting sort due to pain or injury.
“Shearah made him a sleeping draught of tea.” Jessamine seemed to read my mind. “He kept trying to stand and go after all of you into the woods. But I made him drink it all so that we could tend his wounds. He bled quite a lot.”
“Good. Smart thinking.”
My gaze fell to the back of the cave where a white cloth covered one of my warriors.
“Breygar didn’t make it.”
“No, he did not,” said Lorelyn, standing beside us now. “Lord Redvyr, you must speak to the council and the clan. They are afraid. We must all know what is to be done.”
Giving Jessamine’s hand a squeeze, I left her to march over to the fire, then turned to face the clan spread about the cave. The benches were completely full and many stood, with some clansmen huddled on furs spread on the floor for sleeping. No one would leave this cave tonight.
“Tell us,” said Wyzel, her somber eyes already grieving the news I brought.
“We did not recover Bes and Saralyn.”
Sorka sobbed while Tessa stared, her face grim, her eyes haunted.
“Why have these creatures come to us?” Melgar, one of the elderly council members, stood from the bench. “The shadow fae said they’ve not been this far south before, did they not?”
“They did.” I paused. “We don’t know why they’ve come, only that we must find them to get our loved ones back.”
“Perhaps the gods are angry with us.” It was Pavlok, Velga’s father. “Because our king has taken an outsider to his bed.”
He was lashing out at me for humiliating his daughter in front of the clan. So he thought to bring the rumor out into the open, to challenge where I stood, and try to humiliate me.
“Have the sins of the father been passed onto the son?” Melgar asked, the accusation that I had taken a woman who wasn’t meant to be mine clear in his voice. That I might shame our clan by forcing them to take a queen who did not belong, who the gods had not chosen.
Now was not the time, but Pavlok and Melgar had forced my hand. So be it.
The room was silent, all eyes riveted on me, except those who were glaring at Jessamine. And though her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, my mate stood with her head held high and proud. As she should.
I held out my hand to her. “Come to me, Jessamine.”
A few fae gasped and whispered as she walked across the room and took my hand, standing by my side. I met their accusing stares.
“My father took what did not belong to him. My mother. He paid the price, as did she. And as did I, being raised to a full-grown beast fae without parents of my own. The clan raised me. And they raised me well.” I swept my gaze across the room. “I would never repeat my father’s sins. Jessamine,” I tugged her closer, “is my gods-given mate.”
“She can’t be,” said Melgar, his expression contorted in confusion.
“Are you calling me a liar?” I asked.
Melgar’s eyes widened. He looked at Jessamine then shook his head. “No, my lord.”
“Where is her mark?” someone asked.
